


Flaws

by nevermindgrantaire



Series: She Keeps Me Warm [7]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Partying, pining!grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermindgrantaire/pseuds/nevermindgrantaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire lists every single thing she loves about Enjolras in her head, and it's too late when she realises the words that are tumbling aloud out of her mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flaws

Music poured out of Courf and Jehan's shared flat when Grantaire half-staggered out of the fire escape door, a puff of warm air and babbling laughter and flashing light following her, and it was abruptly cut off as she slammed the door behind her. She was drunk of course, or not exactly drunk but well on the way and her ankle turned on her high heel as she tried to wrestle a cigarette out of her purse. Pursing her rouged lips, she swore softly and dropped the purse, rubbing her ankle with one hand and steadying herself on the banister with another. From a distance she looked pretty, strikingly so with her wildly curly dark hair and her huge black-lined eyes, but close up her eyelashes had clumped together and her eye-liner was smudged slightly and her hair had roots showing and every pixel of her skin was coated in foundation.

She closed her eyes and scrubbed a hand across her face, tired and stressed out, wanting to go home but just holding on for a little bit longer in case Enjolras showed up and she could worm her way into an argument just to draw the girl's attention towards her for a few moments. It was pathetic, she knew. But what could she do? Better that she felt something for her, better that Enjolras hated her than ignored her... She let herself smile a little, thinking about the other girl.

  
Suddenly, behind her there was a cough and she looked round, her heavily made up eyes widening in surprise and guilt at being caught out thinking like that. A flush dripped slowly across her cheeks.

Enjolras was leaning on the wall beside the door, a red plastic cup of apple juice in her hands. 'Taire treated her to a lazy grin, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart. “Well hello there, Artemis.” The nickname made her giggle softly to herself, feeling a little sloshy with drink.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras acknowledged dryly with a small, slightly scary tight smile. The kind of smile that says 'please leave me alone before I force you to.' Something that 'Taire did not plan on doing because it was so rare that she got the opportunity to piss her off one on one.

“What are you doing out here all on your little lonesome?”

Enjolras didn't even bother answering, just raised her eyebrows and looked out over the view. They'd known each other long enough that Grantaire knew all about the other girl's hatred of drinking, of parties, of anywhere she may be forced to interact socially with people outside her close social circle.

Finally, she found her cigarette and grinned in triumph, lighting up and eyeing Enjolras out of the corner of her eye. The light haired girl was pretty, in a sort of fiercely irritated way, with a round-jawed face and hollow dark green eyes- her features were beautiful, too beautiful, the curve of her cheeks just a little too soft, the round of her eyes just a little too smooth. It made Grantaire’s head hurt to look at her, made her ache to find a sketch book and etch those eyelashes, those lips, those cheek bones, into the paper. Made her ache to take all the little pieces that made Enjolras herself and keep them to herself, pressed between the pages. Her hair was soft and blonde and curled around her neat little ears and reached almost down to her waist. Grantaire wanted to know what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. She had a soft smattering of freckles across her nose. Grantaire wanted to press her lips to each and every single one.

Enjolras didn't know her well enough, considering they spent so much time with each other in their wider group of friends. 'Taire knew that she irritated her leader, knew that her attentions were unwelcome. It seemed to make her slight... “crush” just that little bit more pathetic, but that just urged her on. It had always been a tendency of hers to hurl herself headfirst into heartbreak, always knowing how it would end.

She coughed and her fingers tapped on her leg with pent-up energy. She needed her smoke- if Enjy was going to be annoyed by her presence she could always go and attempt to function socially.

She took a long drag of breath and blew a couple of smoke rings, smirking at the other girl's impressed expression before Enj managed to school her face back into it's normal scowl. Abruptly, her head snapped round and she looked at Grantaire critically. “Have you been drinking tonight?”

She snorted, then realised the question was serious. “It's like you barely know me!”

“An answer would be appreciated.”

“Of course I have, my Katherine.”

“Katherine?”

“Surely you know your Shakespeare?”

Enjolras gave her a blank look and the shorter girl sighed, mock frustrated.

“The Taming of the Shrew? If you're going to nag about my drinking, I might as well wed you off to Petruchio and have done with you.”

In the dim light of the lamp and the very faint glow given off by 'Taire's cigarette, the curves of Enjolras' face were tinted red-gold and the lightness of her hair gave her an angelic halo around her head. She was smiling a little, one side of her mouth slanting up a tiny bit. It kind of made 'Taire's heart hurt a little, and she took another sharp suck on the cigarette then started choking.

“You ought to quit that, you know.”

Grantaire cleared her throat and raised her head, inhaling again deliberately slowly and raising her eyebrows provocatively. She blew a smoke ring into the night sky.

The blonde sighed and tossed her hair. “Whatever. It's your lungs, if you want to ruin them...”

There was silence for a moment. R leaned her elbows on the rail and stared out over the rooftops. It's about 2 in the morning, the fire escape looking out over an almost empty street populated with drunks and people going off to work the late shift. They could hear the sounds of the party from within the building, a muffled chant of “Bahorel! Bahorel! Bahorel!” had started up, followed by crashing, and the sound of Courf shouting “That was mahogany!” in a terrible approximation of that woman with the hat from that film. She laughed to herself and glanced sideways at Enjolras.

“Why aren't you in there with the rest of them, anyway?” She asked after a moment.

“Too loud, I couldn't think.”

“Why are you thinking anyway? This is a celebration. Have a drink, get over yourself for a while.”

“What's the point in that? I'll make a fool of myself like you do, wake up with no memory of the night before and I will have wasted a night when I could have done something useful instead.”

Grantaire laughed. “That’s the fun of it!”

There was a pause while Enjolras looked out over the city again. “I don’t understand you,” She said after a moment, brow furrowed.

Grantaire didn’t respond, her fingers tapping a rhythm on the metal bar.

“I don’t like not being able to think,” Enjolras said quietly after a moment.  
R’s eyebrows raised. “Of course. Because the mighty Athena can't switch off her brain for a moment to just relax with her friends for a while.” She snarked.

E's eyes narrowed in retaliation. “What's with the fictional character names?”

The dark haired girl shrugged. “What's with the...” At which point her drunken brain decided to kick in. “What's with the face?”

  
“Oh, real mature, Grantaire.”

  
She loved it when she said her name like that. All pointed and irritated and sarcastic.

“Actually, I don't even care, I'm going inside. You can stay here and… whatever. I don’t care. You're ridiculous.”

Grantaire smiled a little, listening to her rant, and swayed on her heels. Enjolras was just so pretty, especially when she cared about something, especially when she was trying to persuade someone across to a cause that was never in a million years going to pull through. An angel, that's what she looked like, from an old stained glass window because she seemed heavenly in this light and her skin seemed almost translucent, radiating light. Having Enjolras around was better than having street lamps. Maybe just every street should have one at the end to keep it lit at night and to warn the people about the evils of capitalism or whatever. That would be nice. Wait, what was she thinking about again? Enjolras, right. She was always thinking about Enjolras. Her cheekbones. Her voice. Her lips, when she talked... She wants to list every little thing about her that she loves, press the words into her skin with kisses, over and over again.

Her hands, slim and elegant and beautiful- long fingers that flutter when she talks like little butterflies.

Collar bones that slip and slide out from the neck line of her shirt and under the surface of her skin. She wants to bite them.

She really does look like an angel, her hair out loose for once instead of all tied back.

She's painfully beautiful.

Slowly, Grantaire noticed that E had stopped talking. She frowned. “You've stopped talking,” she said.

The blonde girl blinked, looking a little shell shocked. “You don't realise you said that out loud, do you?”

Grantaire could feel a cold feeling creeping over her shoulders all of a sudden. “What?”

“You... said I looked like an angel.”

“No! I didn't.”

"You said you wanted to bite my collar bones."

"You're wrong!"

“You did. You said you have a... crush. On me.”

“No. I didn’t. I think you’re mistaked. Mistaken. Stop asking me stupid questions. I have to go!” She blurted and turned to leave, reaching for the fire escape door.

“Wait!” Enjolras caught her sleeve, pulling her back. “Stay. Please?”

“Huh?” R turned, falling slightly. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes open with worry.

Enjolras sighed. “I’m not gonna…” Pause. “I’m not going to kiss you. Not while you’re...”

“You can say the word drunk, you know. It’s not a bad word,” Grantaire snarked even as she let Enjolras help her back inside, curling subconsciously towards her and her warmth. “It won’t infect you, just by saying it.”

“Mmhm.” Enjolras hid a smirk, guiding her through the door and back into the warmth. Her hand slid down to the small of Grantaire's back.

The fire escape door slid shut behind them, just as the sun started to rise.


End file.
